Lingering
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: Fred was gone, but he never really left. one shot.


**Author's Note:** Written for…

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. _Team/Position:_ Montrose Magpies, Chaser 1 _Task:_ Write for Spiritual genre. _Prompts:_ history, "My Immortal" by Evanescence, image.5361614.3879/flat,550x550,075,f. (image)

Team Competition. _Prompts:_ Ginny Weasley, "H-how long have you been standing there?"

 **Lingering**

The memorials were hard to miss scattered all over the castle in plaques and portraits; in the form of obelisks and statues and newly-planted trees. Sixty-seven in all – each one for a life that had been lost during the battle.

Fred's was a bench. Ginny had hated it at first. She'd removed herself from all discussions about what shape his memorial would take, confident that none of the options could appropriately capture her brother's personality. Fred had been loud and playful, and the bench seemed too dull in comparison.

She spent the first three months of her seventh year ignoring the bench. With Quidditch cancelled she rarely left the castle, and it was easy to pretend there was not a wrought iron bench overlooking the lake that had Fred's name inscribed on it.

But the days grew long without distractions. It seemed that in everyone's haste to return Hogwarts to what it had been, they'd changed it. It was never more of an institution than it was now with its empty dorms and quiet halls.

The silence was unbearable, as were the memories that filled every room. There was too much bad history for the school to feel like home anymore, so Ginny found herself spending more and more time outside, even as the weather grew colder.

It was inevitable that she would make her way to the bench. There was no point in avoiding it anymore. Fred was all around her here. He was in her memories of firecrackers and skiving snackboxes. He was beside her at the Gryffindor table and lying dead on the cold floor. Mostly he was just _there_ , no matter where she went or what she did, and sometimes it was too much.

"I wish you'd just leave," she whispered one day. She was alone on the bench, admiring the light reflecting off of the frozen lake.

"If you can't come back, then I wish you would just go away. Leave me alone." She whimpered, her voice finally breaking. She didn't allow herself to cry often. It was too hard to stop once she got started, but it was even harder to keep it bottled up with Fred's presence so strong still.

There was a _snap_ and a _thud_ and Ginny's head spun in search of the source, finally landing on Dennis, standing behind the bench.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" she sputtered, turning away and wiping her eyes.

He plopped down on the other side of the bench, staring out at the lake as well. "Not long. I was up in the tree when you came out," he said, pointing to the branch hanging over the bench.

She appraised him from the corner of her eye, noting his red eyes and wrinkled robes. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in months, and that wasn't surprising. There were plenty of others around who had the same look about them, and not all of them students.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he said when the silence stretched on. "Colin and I used to climb trees together. They planted one for him, you know? It's over by Hagrid's. He would've liked that."

Ginny nodded, looking away. "Sounds nicer than a bench."

He shrugged. "It's all useless, isn't it? Twenty, thirty years from now, no one's going to care about the names or the memorials. They'll take it for granted like we do portraits and moving staircases."

She didn't know what to say to that. The thought had crossed her mind a few times, but it was too depressing to focus on.

"It still feels like he's here. Like he's lingering, you know? I talked to Nick. He says Colin's not a ghost, but I don't know how else to explain this."

"I know," she said at last. "I feel Fred too."

Dennis nodded, seemingly pleased with her answer. "I heard you talking to him. I talk to Colin too. I apologize a lot; it's my fault he's gone. I hope he can here me."

"I'm sure he can," she lied. She'd spent too long hoping to have some sign that Fred could hear her.

"I'm leaving school," he announced, catching Ginny off guard. "I'm going home for Christmas and then … I'm not coming back."

"Why?"

"My parents have been through a lot in the last year, being on the run and then losing Colin. I think they'd feel better if I was at home." Ginny understood this, knowing for certain her mother would have kept her at home if she could've. Dennis continued, "And anyway, I'm so tired of being here."

"You love Hogwarts though."

For so long it had been common to find the Creevey brothers tucked into the corner of the common room, gawking at something magically mundane. It was difficult enough to see Colin's empty seat in classes and feel guilty for knowing he would have been excited to learn the same things. Now it would be impossible to concentrate without thinking of Dennis' losses too.

"This isn't Hogwarts anymore. Hogwarts was fun and exciting, even when it was scary and dangerous. Colin and I used to talk about it when we were hiding from the Snatchers. Petrifying, running, death eaters, horrible teachers – we'd go through it all again. That was how much we loved this place." He shook his head roughly, standing from the bench and kicking at a mound of snow. "Nobody looks me in the eye anymore, and it's not just me. It's like the whole school is afraid to talk, to breathe, to _live_. What's the point in staying?"

She paused before answering. It occurred to her that there wasn't much keeping her there either, aside from the fact that her parents would probably kill her if she dropped out. Then she thought of Fred, who really had dropped out, but had still been supportive and encouraging to her and Ron in completing their educations.

"Because Colin would want you to," she told him with more surety than she felt. "Colin would hate for you to give up on Hogwarts just because of what's happened. The two of you went through so much here, for magic. Wouldn't it be a shame for all of that to go to waste just because-"

"Everything is different?"

" _We're_ different. And we're never going to be the same, but eventually things will be okay. And you're not quitting."

Dennis smiled. "What makes you so sure?"

"You're a Gryffindor."


End file.
